What’s Four Dinner?

Sweat dripped down my face, my muscles began to ache. I stopped what I was doing for a moment to catch my breath and allow my body to relax.

“You’re almost there” I whisper to myself, getting back to work. “You still have lots of work to do” I tell myself, knowing I was running out of time. I shouldn’t have waited this long to make my last preparations, but sometimes things don’t go as you expect. Sometimes, curve balls are thrown your way, and you have no choice but to adapt. I felt that I adapted rather well, all things considering.

“I do hope you will be in attendance tomorrow” I speak quietly, though I’m not sure why. “Who am I kidding, of course you’ll be in attendance” I laugh, and am met with a stone cold looked i was all too familiar with. “I’ll see you then” I grin wickedly, before closing the door behind me.

**************

“I hope you like what I’ve prepared, it’s quite good.” I looked around the table, studying the faces of those that surrounded the table. I had previously set the table with four plates, four dinner forks, four dessert forks, four knives, and four wine glasses.

Walking around the table, I was sure to fill up the glasses of my dinner guests, with a red wine. It was one of my favourite wines, and paired with the dinner I had prepared, I was certain my guests would enjoy it.

There was an eerie silence that surrounded the table, not that I minded. I was use to this sort of behaviour. On the fourth day, in the fourth month, I hosted three others for dinner. It was the same every year, a tradition I knew my dinner guests would look forward to.

“Let me just go ahead and start serving the main course” I announced, when nobody had said a word. I shrugged it off and walked into the kitchen, readjusting my apron as I set the bottle of wine down on the kitchen island. I grabbed the pot, being certain to put on an oven mit as to not burn myself; that was one mistake I was certain not to make again.

“Tonight, I’m serving you all Salisbury steak meatballs” I tell them, as I lay the meatballs on their plates. I could tell I was getting a positive response so I hurriedly went back into kitchen to fetch the next part. “With smashed potatoes, peas, and mushroom gravy.”

It smelled delicious; I wasn’t one to brag, but I was an amazing cook. Each dinner I hosted, I tried a different recipe, making sure to perfect it before the day arrived. I finally decided to take off my apron, allowing myself to fully enjoy the meal with my guests.

“You don’t have to wait for me, dig in!” I clapped with excitement. I first took a small sip of my wine, before I picked up my fork and began to eat. “So, Darla, tell me about how school is going?” I asked, trying to make idle conversation. She gave me a look of disinterest, before bowing her head down towards her plate.

“I heard your GPA is 4.0. You must be working very hard” I complimented her, but got nothing in return. It was frustrating, sometimes with these dinners. Regardless of how much I prepared, and the topics of conversation I carefully researched beforehand, the dinners never went exactly according to plan.

“No mind then, I’m proud of you anyway” I tell her with a smile, taking a bite of one of the meatballs. “I hate to brag, but these are just delicious” I chuckle, dabbing the corner of my mouth my special, embroidered napkin.

There was another silence that floated around the table. Sometimes it felt like I didn’t know my guests well enough to host these things. I could not help myself though, I had to. It was a compulsion. April 4th, every year was very close to my heart. It was a tradition passed on to me by my mother, and she had it passed on to her from her mother.

“Devyn, I heard you just got a promotion?” I asked her, and she looked at me, an expression unreadable on her delicate face. Her brown hair draped over her cheeks, but not enough so that I couldn’t see her deep blue eyes peaking out.

“I’m very impressed, so you know.” I speak softly, setting down my fork on my empty plate. Dinner was delicious, as usual, and judging by their plates, my guests agreed with me.

“Let me take those away,” I say, taking my own plate first before grabbing the others. “My, Darlene, you barely touched a thing.” I shook my head in disappointment, but continued to take the dishes to the sink anyway.

I take my time rinsing the dishes before setting them in the dishwasher. As I do so, I look out the window into the backyard, my memory going back to last night, and my last minute preparations. My mother would have been a little disappointed with my poor planning, but it would just be something she would have to live with. Live with. I chuckled despite myself. She wouldn’t live with anything; she was long gone.

My methods though different, worked just as effectively as my mom. She did teach me everything I knew, but I also needed to experiment on my own.

With the dishes in the dishwasher, it was time for dessert. I slipped back into my apron, the smile coming to my lips at the familiarity of the situation. This would be the fourth year I had held this dinner, making twelve different guests having enjoyed the experience.

“Well, I think we all enjoyed that” I say with a smile, and am of course met with cold, dead stares. I laugh, something I’m unable to control. “Oh, this is too much fun.”

I walk towards the nearest guest, tilting her head up so I was forced to look into her cold, dead eyes.

“Dessert is a little unconventional” I admit to her, tilting her chin gently back down. “So, who wants to be served first?”

I wait for the answer I know is never going to come. I look at my guests, who have nothing to say.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter, you’ll all end up served anyway.” I shrug, putting on a pair of gloves.

Pausing before approaching Darlene, I frowned to myself. This was the exciting part of the event; and it was about to be over. All the work I had put in to the last year of preparation, all of the effort exerted to make this happen… and now, it was over.

The gathering of information, the perfectly executed method. I was proud of myself. Four years, and I was still as sharp as ever.

Finally, I was finished reminiscing. I had the next year to relive this moment.

With a smirk, I grab the body of Darlene, it being a lot heavier than I remembered. It was time to clean up after dinner.

It was time to say goodbye to the guests.

Dragging Darlene towards the basement, I let her body drop down the stairs, ignoring the sounds it made on the way down.

I did the same to my other guests as I did to Darlene, shutting the door once I was finished. I couldn’t wait until I would be able to host my next dinner. I couldn’t wait until I would be able to ask:

“What’s four dinner?”

*Based on a prompt from reedsy* You can find my other stories from reedsy here.